It's Called a Collaboration
by ThePrettiestPoison
Summary: Set in Season 3, sometime when the entire New Directions is back. Quinn/Rachel...something I never thought I'd ever even touch. Rated T for...content...eventually. Reviews are much appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I ship these two, that's right. Yeah. I didn't think there was much of a fan base but man. I was wrong.**

**This is third season stuff, but at some point when Mercedes is still in the group because she is one of their best vocalists outside of Leah Michelle's amazing (if not slightly melodramatic) musical-theatre voice and maybe Artie just because of his soulful, sweet boy-charm. Sorry, Kurt. You get no love from me.**

**Without further ado…**

Staggered rows of plastic chairs and discolored ivory tile. That's home to Quinn. She would never admit it, but that was just her. For the past few years now she'd found comfort and solace in the fact that she was surrounded here by outcasts. No one in the club could say that more genuinely. The difference was that they were all more comfortable with their exile. Quinn was far less accepting of her position. Slowly, though, she was settling into the concept of being a member of a team. She was feeling less and less as though she needed to be the star. Especially since she quite enjoyed watching the star of this particular team shine. As of late, though, it had started to feel more like a prison, and that was just not something she could tolerate.

Quinn had long since given up repairing the damage to her relationship with Finn. It was beyond help now, and to be honest it was the last remnants of the old her. The one that wasn't accepting of anything outside what society had deemed 'the norm'. Trying to hold so desperately to the ideal had worn her down. She wasn't sure when the change had occurred, but somewhere between all the arguments, the snarky comments, and the teasing she'd discovered an ever present sense of jealousy. Not for Finn, but for the object of his affections. Rachel. She was sure it had something to do with the inescapable fact that Rachel would never truly be hers. Quinn was sure a majority of the affection she felt for the girl was as unfeasible as it was wildly inappropriate. There was no way she could have Rachel for her own. This thought propelled her to try her very hardest to work against that logic. Years of striving for perfection had given Quinn the will and resources to attain anything she wanted, or ruin herself trying.

"So, guys…regionals," Will Schuester beamed around at his little arsenal of misfits. The mound of sheet music he dropped hit the piano with a clap, waking Brad from one of his frequent little naps, and the club gave a little collective whoop and holler of excitement. "One duet, one solo performance, and one group number."

"We'll be holding auditions, _right_ Mr. Schue?" Mercedes cocked her head to the side, pursing her lips at Rachel, who was leaning forward a little bit in her chair, fully prepared to leap up and offer her immensely gifted (if not mildly overused) voice for the solo and duet.

"That's right. And we're doing it a little differently this time. I know curveballs are your guys' favorites!" There was a resounding silence from his audience. "Oh, come on. A little enthusiasm would be good, guys."

"What's the curveball?" Artie asked, quirking an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Duh, Artie, it's a ball that's like…curved. Like round," Brittney offered with a hair flip and an eye roll. Mike couldn't help it, he turned to stare at her.

"Your naivety is still amazing," he told her earnestly.

"What? Like…not all balls are round, okay. Like footballs. They're sort of shaped like that kid from Hey, Arnold's head but everyone still calls them balls."

And if they were being honest with themselves, every single member of Glee club tried desperately to argue that logic. No one could come up with anything.

"So. Balls aside. Your assignments. This week I'll be putting you into groups—" as if on cue, several of the group members reached for their partner. Mercedes and Kurt, Rachel and Finn, Mike and Tina. "—That _I_ chose. Because yes, I am still an educator and that means I have to be cruel to you guys sometimes when it comes to groups. Your groups will consist of people with contrasting voices. Your assignment is to pick a song that compliments your voice."

"Kurt and…Santana, pair up."

Kurt's eyes went wide. "_Satan_."

Santana just smirked devilishly.

"Finn and Mercedes," Shuester pointed at the two individually. Finn reached behind to give Mercedes a high five. She met him half way with her casual but always-sassy fist-bump.

"Quinn and Rachel."

Everyone in the club turned to stare. Even Rachel looked a little nervous. Quinn refused to make eye contact with her, just glanced at her out of her peripherals and flashed her a smile, toying with the ends of her hair in a way that she hoped wasn't too obvious. Santana tapped the back of her chair with her foot.

"What?" she hissed.

"We needs to talk," Santana told her sternly. She wasn't at all quiet about it, and Quinn shot her such a poisonous look she immediately backed up.

Quinn and Santana were standing beside Quinn's locker. Santana had cornered her there, arms crossed and her most business-like look.

"So. You and Berry…" Santana tried to sound flippant. She knew to tread carefully here.

"Working on a song," Quinn finished for her, tone slightly clipped.

"Yeah, and what was that look you gave her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Quinn slammed her locker door shut with some force, but Santana either didn't notice the hint or didn't bother to take it.

"Babe, you're talking to the queen of eye-sexing," Santana smirked devilishly.

"I think you're imagining things."

"Calm down, Q. Tell Momma Santana what's goin' on."

"I…don't know."

"Oh, come _on_," Santana gave an exasperated sigh, all but collapsing against the lockers. "Don't give me that."

"No, I mean I literally don't know," Quinn hissed, her voice lower this time. Santana sensed a need for secrecy and took the opportunity to hook her fearless leader around the elbow and lead her away down the hall and out the double doors to the back of the football field. Much of their scheming had gone on here, as well as a few of Santana's more trilling acts of teen rebellion.

"So when did you realize you'd hopped on the lesbian bus?" Santana asked casually.

"I don't know. I just remember looking at her and thinking…"

"That you would totally do her and she's a little boyish but not exactly Puck or Finn status?"

"That she was exactly what I wanted," Quinn corrected, trying not to lose her patience. Santana's obsession with physical satisfaction was starting to grind on her nerves. She couldn't tell if Santana was taking this seriously nor not and she needed her to, if she was going to put Quinn through the trouble of explaining.

"She's perfect. Literally perfect."

"Let's not get carried away. She did _steal_ your boy. Like…a few different times."

"And I was angry with her," Quinn admitted. "But I don't think it was for the reason I thought."

"Hm. Makes sense," Actually it made no sense at all to Santana, but she nodded anyways. There were more important things to worry about than the why's and the how's of Quinn's newly discovered affections. The more important question was 'what now?'. "So what are you going to do about it? Rachel and Finn are pretty steady about now. And then there's the fact that Berry is about as sexual as like…Big Bird. So how are you going to get her from hardcore virgin to sex-kitten lesbian?"

"I can handle Rachel."

"And Finn?"

"He can only put up so much of a fight. He knows I always get what I want." The look in Quinn's eyes was one of pure determination. She was on a warpath, more or less. The kind of warpath that made even Santana wary.


	2. Chapter 2

"Quinn, we need to talk." As Quinn had predicted, the shadow lurking against the surface of her locker belonged to none other than Finn Hudson in all his ape-ish, dimwitted glory. She turned on her heel, trying to control the sneer that was lingering on her face. He wasn't standing quite so close that it was necessary to look up at him, but she held her chin aloft with more than the usual amount of pride. Her eyes bore holes into his fixated glare and for a moment she thought he might turn and walk away. After a few moments of tense silence he finally spoke.

"One, can you quit plotting my girlfriend's demise in the middle of a crowded hallway? Everyone in Glee may know you want to kill her but you don't have to make it so obvious for everyone else and it bugs me."

Quinn didn't mean to leer quite so obviously at the petite brunette. She made a mental note to keep that in check, however wrong Finn's assumptions were in regard to her intentions.

"Two, and I mean this. No funny business, Quinn. I'm serious. None of the bullying, or the underlying threats."

"Underlying?"

"I'm pretty sure I used that word right."

"You rehearsed?" Quinn quirked an eyebrow. Finn didn't blink.

"Unlike you I don't just stomp around doing whatever I want. I think about what I'm going to say and do. And I think about what it's going to do to others."

"That's right. Because you've had to sacrifice so much more than I have. I forgot. Life must be tough. We're done here."

"I'll be watching you."

"You have my intentions all wrong."

"What does that mean?"

"_We're done here_." Quinn nudged past him, flouncing down the hall towards Rachel. She stopped at her locker, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. She was well aware of Finn's eyes locked on the two of them.

"Hey, Quinn," Rachel said, and Quinn could detect the slightest quiver to her voice.

"Hey, Rachel. So I was thinking we should work on our song. Later today? My house?"

Rachel took a moment to ingest that. Quinn thought maybe she was still struggling with the fact that Quinn was speaking to her and hadn't yet thrown an insult or a threat her way.

"Uh. Yeah. Yeah, sure," Rachel flashed her a surprised but pleased smile. All white, perfect teeth and pretty lips. Quinn quickly checked her leering, nodding.

"Here's the address," she quickly scribbled down the address on a hot pink post-it. She caught Rachel staring at the little pad almost enviously.

"Staples," Quinn smiled warmly at her, sticking the note on her hand instead of simply placing it there.

"What did Quinn want?" Finn's voice was surly, verging on pouting. The tone made Rachel frown.

"Nothing. Just…we're rehearsing after school. She was nice," she smiled a little, and it only sent Finn further into despair.

"She's up to something."

"She wants to win. You're thinking about this too much. Your efforts would be better focused elsewhere. Like beating me. Even if you don't have a chance." There was a sly smirk lingering around the corner of her lips. Finn reached down to her and pulled her face to his, kissing it away. He preferred the post-kiss smile to the mischievous-diva smile any day.

"Mind if I come and watch you rehearse?" Because sometimes even Finn could be sneaky if he wanted to.

"You'd have to ask her. She invited me to her house," Rachel quirked an eyebrow as though this was sufficient evidence towards Quinn's relative innocence. Finn tried not to pout, he really did, but the nagging feeling that Quinn was up to _something_ wouldn't go away.

"She did that on purpose," he blurted out, following her down the hallway. "She doesn't want me to be there!"

"So? You two aren't exactly best friends."

"I'll give you a ride," Finn said.

"Really, Finn. I'll be fine."

"I know. I want to, okay?" Finn smiled at her and she conceded, nodding slightly and blushing. The attention didn't exactly bother her, and the melodrama of it all was more thrilling than it was irritating.

Finn's overly ambitious display of affection when they were standing outside Quinn's house was also _very_ thrilling. Quinn was standing on the porch, arms folded over her chest, tapping her foot in impatience. By the time Finn finally let Rachel go, she'd imagined exactly thirty six ways to end his life. If it weren't for the fact that it might make a mess, she might have tried tactic seventeen, which was ripping his head from his shoulders with her bare hands. It may not have worked, but trying didn't sound like such a bad idea. She narrowed her eyes at him and glared instead, even as he slid his gaze sideways to glare back at her while Rachel chattered about their plans for the evening _post_ rehearsal.

"I'm feeling suddenly inspired," she flashed Finn a devilish smile that nearly melted his heart. He leaned down, kissed her on the forehead, crossed back to the driver's side of the car.

"I love you, Rachel!" he called to her rather loudly, waiting until she had nearly joined Quinn on the porch. He had the dopey grin on his face that she liked so much, but the minute she turned her back to cross into the door, he went back to the same black expression. Throwing Quinn daggers for warning. She let just the faintest hint of a smirk creep to her lips, her eyes still piercing and scheming as ever.

"Do you want something to drink?" Quinn offered, crossing the sitting room to the kitchen. Rachel lingered behind her, following with the slow uncertainty that comes with the awkwardness of being in a home she'd never thought she'd be welcomed into. The situation in which she now found herself was so unexpected she was cursed with a rare spell of speechlessness. So she just shook her head and mumbled a "no thank you".

"So I assume you have ideas for songs?" Quinn arched one perfectly charming eyebrow at Rachel and indicated that she should sit down. Quinn sat down on the other end of the same couch, and it was slightly new to Rachel to see Quinn in her own home. Not quite relaxed. But more so than she ever was at school. She was in her own element here. The décor was just as elegant as the girl before her. Rachel had the odd sensation that she had been transported back in time. It was as though the house and Quinn herself were something out of a magazine, the way that everything was in the place it ought to be. It was all airbrushed and pretty. Rachel snapped herself out of the wonder for a moment to answer Quinn's question.

"I was actually hoping that you had something in mind. I don't do many duets with girls. Your range is completely different from Finn's."

"Well I was sort of thinking we could do something with a guitar? I've been practicing with Sam sometimes."

"Oh, wow," Rachel beamed. "That's fantastic."

_I guess there aren't a lot of duets to do with the drums_. That's what Quinn wanted to say. Desperately. The words were lingering on the tip of her tongue, but she hadn't invited Rachel over to talk about Finn, and sparking discussion about _him_ with her was higher on her list of things she would never willingly do than kick puppies.

"I've still got a ways to go, but…here. Let me show you," Quinn rose from her chair, and took Rachel by the hand, leading her across the room and down the hall to her room. It was just as picture-perfect as the rest of the house. Mostly muted pastels and classy, ornate wood furniture.

"Very chic," Rachel commented approvingly, running a hand across the deep mahogany dresser. Quinn crossed the room and picked up an acoustic guitar off the stand in the corner. It was sleek, with a black face and intricate floral detailing around the edges.

"What do you think about Taylor Swift?" Quinn smiled at her, strumming out the first few chords to "Enchanted". Rachel nodded approvingly at the pleasant sound.

_There I was again tonight  
>Forcing laughter faking smiles<br>Same old tired lonely place…  
>Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes, and vacancy vanished when I saw your face<br>All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you…_

And it went on like that for the next few lines. Quinn strumming on the guitar, singing in a slow but mesmerizing pace. Her voice made Rachel excited for the first time in a long time. The intimacy of it all was something so strange and wondrous that she'd never dared to expect from the usually spunky blonde. And then Quinn looked up, locking eyes with Rachel. Rachel held her gaze, completely entranced.

_ The lingering question kept me up  
>2 AM "Who do you love?"<br>I wonder 'til I'm wide awake…_

Quinn went back to staring at the guitar as she finished the rest of the song. Rachel tried to shake off the haunting feeling that Quinn's music seemed to have left her with. It was as though she could feel the lyrics and words on her skin and in her brain. When Quinn finished the song she went back to looking at Rachel, only there was something changed in her eyes. Something not so harsh and closed. There was warmth there, and vulnerability. A generally more gentle sense.

"That was…lovely," Rachel wasn't sure why she felt the need to whisper, but she did. Maybe it was for the drama of it all. They sat in silence for a while, neither as uncomfortable as they thought it might be.

"Quinn?" Rachel asked quietly, after the prolonged silence had turned the day to dusk and the sky was turning from red to black outside the window.

"Yes?"

"Why aren't you trying to tear me to pieces anymore?"

And for the first time in a long time Quinn was completely thrown off guard. Out of all the possible things that she would have thought Rachel would have to say, that wasn't one of the choices. The sheer bluntness of it made her giggle in spite of herself.

"What?"

"I…ruined your life."

"You're confusing yourself for Puck and wine coolers." Quinn knew what she was talking about. Finn. It was always about Finn. "Finn was just my attempt at getting back a shred of teenage normalcy…and balance. It wasn't real. I've given up on normal."

"I'm sorry for everything, Quinn."

"I was terrible to you. You shouldn't apologize. You don't know how sorry I am," Quinn was staring out the window at the darkening sky.

"What's done is done. We can forget it and move on. Start afresh," Rachel beamed at her. She had the kindest smile that Quinn had ever seen. She offered out her hand to Quinn. "Hi. I'm Rachel Berry."

Just then there was a sharp buzzing from Rachel's pocket.

"Finn," she rolled her eyes. "Hey, babe."

Quinn listening to the indistinct but fast jabbering on the other end of the line that she assumed could only be Finn convincing her to cut the rehearsal short. She grinded her teeth for a moment, watching Rachel's reaction carefully.

"We haven't even picked our song yet, though," she insisted.

"No, it's alright. Go and have fun. I'll text you later tonight?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, sure," Rachel flashed her a grin and turned back to the pink bejeweled phone in her hand. "Sure…Alright. See you in a few." She shut the phone with a snap, laughing but irritated at the same time. "Boys. So demanding. He says he's already around the corner."

"Boys," Quinn pursed her lips but didn't say anything more. Rachel recited her number, and she plugged the numbers into her phone before walking Rachel to the door. Finn was already just getting out of his car.

"Hey, Rachel," Quinn called after her. Rachel turned around on the drive. Now it was _her_ turn to be vindictive. Finn was waiting by the car, eying her warily. "I'm Quinn Fabray. It was enchanting to meet you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys. I'm back to posting somewhat regularly. For a while. I give it a few weeks. Maybe less. But…for now. Enjoy. I'm sorry. Really. I do write. It's just that I also…work…a lot. Yeah. I'm sorry. So. Anyways!**

"Hey, dude, can I ask you something?" Finn jogged after Mike Chang as they were filing out of the English classroom; Finn with a C paper in his hand and Mike with a bunch of papers to put in the office under the name of his TA duties.

"Sure, Cap'n. Shoot," Mike shrugged nonchalantly, which was a fair contrast to the nervous, slightly embarrassed fidgeting Finn was doing.

"What are you going to do for your anniversary with Tina?"

"We have school that day. I was just thinking I was gonna ask Mr. Schue if I could use the auditorium during the first part of Glee so I could sing something. Homework, dinner, and a movie after school. And…we're having pizza for dinner. American food is to her what filet minion is to you."

"Right," Finn nodded.

"It's steak."

"Dude, I know," Finn laughed as Puck joined them, having been held up by the teacher for questioning on the mysterious disappearance of all the English department's electric pencil sharpeners. Puck had pleaded innocent, thinking on the small army of them sitting in his bedroom at home. _I don't even know what I'm going to do with them_, he realized with a shrug.

"Yours is coming up, isn't it?" Mike quirked an eyebrow, sensing the trouble that Finn was in.

"Yeah, and it's just…I've done the serenading. I had New York to help me. I kissed her in front of a thousand people and consequently threw away the chance of us winning nationals for the drama of the Kiss of the Century –"

"We were there." His companions answered in unison, their tones flat and a little disapproving. There was still a bitter edge to the subject.

"Still…a sore subject. Sorry. Again."

"No you're not," Puck snorted.

"Just go on," Mike was smiling a little.

"It's just that…I don't really know how to top it. You know?"

"Dude, one word for you. Train." Puck said, giving Fin a purposeful look. Mike pondered it for a moment before nodding in approval.

"Train?"

"Train."

"Like a train ride? I'm not really sure that's our thing. I mean it's really noisy and there's always weird drunk people who don't have licenses." Even if going a few hours without having to pretend to be listening to every word Rachel said wouldn't be relaxing and even if the drunk people were sometimes fun to listen to just for the sake of it. That just wasn't something you said out loud, and it didn't really appear to be her scene to him.

"The band," Mike corrected him. And Finn liked that idea much better.

"Drops of Jupiter. Play that for her and I swear you'll never be able to get rid of her no matter how bad you screw up the rest of the date."

"Thanks, Puck." Finn wasn't reassured by the rest of that but he appreciated the suggestion nonetheless.

So absorbed were they in their conversation that they didn't notice Quinn following some distance behind, glaring at the back of Finn's head for good measure. She hadn't really meant to eavesdrop, but Puck's voice carried. She smirked at the brilliant song selection and pocketed the information, immediately seeking out her partner.

"I have it," Quinn appeared quite suddenly at Rachel's side, leaning against the locker beside hers and smiling quite broadly.

"Have what?" Rachel tilted her head to the side, frowning a little.

"We're revamping…" Quinn paused for the drama, relishing in the lip-biting anticipation on Rachel's face. "…Drops of Jupiter, by Train." There was a moment of deliberation. Rachel eyed her, somewhat warily. "Nervous?"

Rachel giggled. "A little!"

"You'll warm up to it once we practice a little. Trust me," Quinn flashed her another smile.

"I trust you," Rachel smiled at her, dimly aware of the fluttering in her stomach. Nerves? The feeling was so foreign to her, it almost scared her. Quinn appeared to sense her anxiety and swiftly moved in for the kill.

"Can I talk to you alone?"

"Sure." The word tumbled from Rachel's lips before she could think to ask what about. Even as she realized that probably would have been the appropriate response, she just couldn't force the words out and found herself instead following Quinn hand-in-hand through the halls and out the double doors to the spot beneath the bleachers where she had first sought Quinn out this year.

"I was really awful to you this past year, Rachel. Awful. Do you know why?"

"I took the love of your life away from you."

"No. I thought that was why too. I was mean to you because I thought I hated you."

"Thought?"

"You represented a part of me that wasn't able to conform to what other had called 'normal'. I loved the idea of being in love with Finn. And there's a difference between loving an idea and loving a person.

"I was so angry with you when you took him back. After everything that happened. To see someone so special with someone so ordinary just didn't seem right. It was like a flame being smothered. He has no business being with you. I was so jealous all the time and it made me angry and the confusion of not knowing who I was jealous of made me even angrier. I was confused and also scared of losing the only shred of normalcy I had left."

"You…liked me?"

"Like. Present tense."

"I love Finn," Rachel returned carefully.

"I didn't ask you about Finn," Quinn noted, observing the almost defensively automatic answer. Rachel caught herself and realized how cornered she was with her logic.

"Don't do this to me, Quinn," Rachel pleaded.

"Why? Because you're not sure who you'd pick between the two of us?"

"Because I don't want to have to. I don't want to hurt anyone and I won't. I'm with Finn. That would be wrong. I'm flattered. But that would be wrong."

"Leaving one thing for something better isn't wrong. Isn't it how you become better? High school is almost over, and then it's on to bigger and better things for the both of us, isn't it?" Quinn countered quickly. "I'm not stuck here like he is. I can keep up with you."

The truth was, this was perhaps the most effective argument she could have ever posed, and Rachel would have bet anything that she'd known that prior to approaching Rachel.

"Tell me you don't have feelings for me," Quinn said, taking advantage of the opportunity presented by Rachel's momentary inability to come up with an argument. Rachel opened her mouth to speak, and whether it was to argue or to agree Quinn didn't wait to find out. She took a step forward and cupped Rachel's face in her hands, sweeping the hair from her face so that she could kiss her. Lips crushed against one another with a sense of urgency the likes of which Rachel had never felt. It was thrilling, wrong, and just what Rachel needed though she wouldn't admit it. Quinn pulled away from her but kept eye contact, her eyes boring holes into Rachel's very thoughts, trying to read her expression.

"Tell me you didn't think that would happen when you came out here with me."

"Tell me _something_, Rachel. _Anything_."

Rachel stared at her for a long time, feeling Quinn's hands against her cheeks—soft and dainty. Quinn's beautifully angular, statuesque features, and those eyes. The spark that mimicked her own so closely. And all she could think about was the contrast. The difference. The change.

Her hands were shaking.

Her bottom lip was trembling.

Her muscles were tensed.

"I love Finn."

That was it. That was all. Rachel took a step back, and Quinn's hands fell limp at her sides, her expression unreadable. Blank. Rachel took a deep breath, taking in the still silence and the look on Quinn's face, trying to understand.

"I love Finn."

**Did you think I was going to make it easy on you guys? Reviews are appreciated. No, it's not over.**


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